Alfred Hitchcock Presents – Party Line (05/29/60)

Party Line:  A party line (multiparty line, shared service line, party wire) is a local loop telephone circuit that is shared by multiple telephone service subscribers.

Helen Parch is working on her preserves, eating what she can and canning what she can’t when the party line rings 3 times.  She surreptitiously picks up the receiver in the way the TV people always seem to think does not make a click on the other end.  Helen loves to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.

She overhears a scintillating conversation between Betty and Emma about the market’s egregious lack of nectarines, Bingo games, and the awful hat worn by that wet blanket Helen.  Hey, that’s her!  Betty says the older Helen gets, the worse she gets.  They describe Helen as being boring, telling the same stories over and over.  Helen is being set up as the bad gal here, but honestly was there ever a time when all three of these women would not have been considered dullards?

OK, maybe the Far Side style glasses were stylish at the time.  And I’m sure women then were often trapped in lives that were not so exciting.  But these ladies make The View look like the Algonquin Roundtable.  The scary part is that these old bitties average under 50 years old which is seeming younger and younger to me.  And where are the men?  Helen is described as a spinster, [1] but I assume the other two buried their husbands.

Detective Atkins drops by to ask if Helen remembers a man named Heywood Miller.  Curiously she does not ask how he ended up with two such lumbercentric names — no wonder she’s a spinster.  Why yes, she does recall him as “That awful man . . . a fool, a gambler, and heaven knows what else.”  She thinks back 8 or 9 years to just after he and Mrs. Miller moved to the community . . . . . .

Helen and Gertrude, who Helen apparently talked to death in the intervening years, are yakking on the party line.  And Helen is using the exact same phone in 1951.  Yeah, they were attached to the wall, but you didn’t have to buy a new one every three years and they would survive a nuclear blast.  When the topic turns to how many eggs to use in a cake, a man interrupts, “For Pete’s sake, are you two still on the phone?”  He chews them out for monopolizing the line for hours while he has an important business call to make.

Helen tells him patience is a virtue.  She gets pouty and grudgingly tells Gertrude that she will call her back later.  She hangs up the phone, but just has to pick it up again to snoop on Miller’s call.  She overhears him placing bets with his bookie.

In the grocery store the next day, Helen overhears the clerk address Mr. Miller.  She confronts him about interrupting her conversation yesterday.  She smirks and tells him she hopes his horses won.  He tells her to mind her own business.

Later, while telling the famous story of her back-to-back Bingo wins that would be in her repertoire’s rotation for the next 9 years, Miller interrupts them again.  This time he says he needs to call a doctor for his wife.  Helen tells Gertrude to stay on the line, that they are wise to his tricks.  Naturally, his wife dies.

Detective Atkins says Miller moved back to the city.  He returned to a life of crime and ended up in jail.  And he has just escaped.  He says Miller “might be heading this way.  To kill you, Mrs. Parch.”  That finally gets the old shrew’s attention.

The story has set us up to root for the killer.  Psycho, which would be released the same year, manipulated us to empathize with killer Norman Bates.  This episode takes the opposite approach, and conditions us to dislike the victim.  Helen is just a loathsome, self-absorbed nothing who caused a woman’s death.  It is understandable that she does not rate much sympathy.

But we are expected to care enough about her for the lengthy scene of her securing her home to be suspenseful.  Any other show, I would think it was just sloppy to have her be so unsympathetic, but they count on our concern to create suspense.

Either by design or by their usual professionalism, they pull it off.  We might be worried that Miller will get in, but I think we are also a little bit happy that he does.

Two motifs help contribute to the excellence of the episode.  First, the images of the ladies on the phone are fantastic.  As Helen eavesdrops or Miller interrupts, they are effectively pasted between the callers.  Second, the scenes of Helen securing the house are more suspenseful than they have a right to be.  This is because — and this is news to just about anyone in Hollywood — it is engrossing to watch someone do something competently on TV.  Maybe because we encounter it so infrequently in real life.  Whether it is Hannibel Lector, Walter White, or a chef chopping onions, we love to see people who are proficient at their task.

Maybe that’s makes AHP so consistently great.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] I always thought this meant a woman who had never married.  Apparently it just means currently unmarried and of a certain age.  Helen actually refers to her husband Fred who is either dead or hiding.
  • AHP Deathwatch: Not surprisingly, no survivors.  BTW, Gertrude was born in 1884.
  • As usual, bare*bones e-zine got there first and has a lot of great info on the production and source material.

Twilight Zone – A Game of Pool (02/04/89)

OK, Esai Morales playing Jessie is no Jack Klugman.

And Maury Chaykin playing Fats is no Jonathan Winters.

And writer George Clayton Johnson is no George Clayton Johnson.

Oh, wait, actually he is!  Johnson’s original screenplay was used for this remake.  That is very cool.  But the fact that they used Johnson’s original discarded ending just makes it even more special.  A wonderful mixture of the old with the new with the old, showing what could have been 25 years earlier.

I wasn’t even that thrilled with the original.  Maybe that’s why I am so content with the remake.  Reviews online are pretty mixed, so I guess my lowered expectations fit the bill.

It’s hardly worth writing up.  Two guys play pool and talk.  But it kept me engrossed the whole time.  A worthy remake.

Other Stuff:

  • Classic TZ connection:  Duh.

Tales from the Crypt – Revenge is the Nuts (11/16/94)

I kept waiting for it to begin; then I kept waiting for it to end.

Samuel is tapping his cane along a hallway in a group home for the blind to find the bathroom, or so the other residents hope.  It sounds a little funny to him, so he feels around and realizes the doorway has been bricked over.  “He’s bricked up the goddamn bathroom again!  Son of a bitch!”  Think about that.  OK, I guess manager Arnie Grunwald is a cheap nogoodnik, but what is the end-game here?

  • Was this somehow saving money?
  • Things are going to get nasty without a bathroom.
  • How was this done without the blind residents knowing?  What happened to that super-hearing?
  • And we are told he did this again.  So did he brick it over before, unbrick it, and just rebrick it?

For more laughs, Grunwald rolls a bucket of marbles down the hallway.  The elderly blind man falls and Grunwald howls with laughter.  That’s just not funny . . . although it might have been if the freakin’ director had only pointed the camera that way.  At least Benny the janitor is sympathetic; to Grunwald’s disgust.

The home receives a new resident, a young blonde woman named Sheila.  Grunwald says the county has placed her there for six months.  He tells her if she knows what’s good for her, she will do things his way.  Benny takes her to the group bedroom which is dark and filthy.

She feels around for a window to sneak out of, but they are boarded up.  Samuel says Mr. Grunwald figures blind people don’t need light.  Their only DVD is, cruelly, The Quiet Place.  Then a train goes by which creates a deafening noise, shakes the room, and for some reason causes the lights to briefly flicker on and off.

Grunwald offers Sheila a way out if she will provide him a girlfriend experience.  She spits in his face, which is ala carte unless you purchase the premium package.  He has Benny escort Sheila back to the sleeping quarters.  She reveals to Samuel and a woman named Armelia that she lifted a pocket-knife off of Benny.  They escape their quarters along with a man who was attacked by Grunwald’s dog.

Another distraction: Why are they wearing sunglasses?  I know blind people wear dark glasses, but the usual reasons don’t apply here.  They are trapped inside, so inadvertently staring into the sun isn’t an issue. [1]  And there is no one else around but blind people, who is going to see them?  Grunwald and Benny, but they aren’t too concerned about looking good for those two idiots.  Although Sheila does keep wearing that snappy beret.

Of course, the escape attempt does not work, but the episode is too blah to continue.  It just doesn’t work that 90% of the episode is so dark.  I get the reason, but the way it was shot was not handled well.  Properly done, it would have been effectively contrasted with Grunwald’s lighted areas, and given some greater meaning.  Here, there was nothing beyond him having lights and them not.

The ending should have been fantastic with angry blind people getting revenge, a starving attack dog, walls lined with razor blades, and a girl in a beret.  Sadly, the look and the score just didn’t support the concept.

The same story was done much better in the 1972 Tales from the Crypt movie.  I actually gasped at the movie’s ending with the dog and the razor blades.  Watching that scene in both productions is a great illustration of what a little artistry can do.

Other Stuff:

  • Title Analysis:  Hunh?  Revenge is the Nuts?  Was “the nuts” a thing in the 90’s like “the shit”?  It might have been worth this tedious episode if the killer dog had gone right for his nuts at the end.  If he had done it at the beginning, it would have been even better.
  • [1] Is that even an actual reason for wearing the glasses?  They’re blind, not stupid.

 

Outer Limits – The Grell (02/12/99)

High Secretary Paul Kohler and his staff have just been in a plane crash.  And by staff, I mean alien slaves wearing electronic collars.  Humans in the future apparently decided to return to a slave economy having seen how peacefully it worked out for all parties in the past.

It’s OK, the Grell are from a far away land accessible only by ships, less technically advanced, and do not look like their masters, so it is completely different this time.

Ep suggests this might be the perfect opportunity to escape.  Jesha still feels loyalty to his master, though, and wants to rescue Kohler and his kids.  After Jesha frees them, Ep starts to run.  Kohler kills him with a prolonged electric charge to his security collar.  Kohler won’t even permit Jesha to bury his friend before they move on.

While trekking through the woods looking for a Marriott, the Kohler family and Jesha stumble across a Grell camp.  When the kids say they are hungry,  Ma Kohler instructs Jesha to mash up some apples, then puke on them.  This serves the dual purposes of 1) his alien saliva cleansing the radiation from the apples, and 2) stopping the kids from ever bitching about being hungry again.  Before Jesha can shit on a cracker and call it dessert, young Sara quite reasonably runs off.

She comes across a Grell who is not as enamored of the whole slave-chic thing as Jesha.  He yells to Kohler that he has his daughter.  Jesha comes between them and Sara runs off.  I appreciate that, even with the alien make-up, this new Grell looks more fierce than the subservient Jesha.  The other Grell offers to cut his collar off if he will join their clan.

When Jesha hears Sara screaming, he runs to help her.  He finds that Kohler has been shot.  The first aid is not enough, so Jesha pukes on the wound to seal it.  Man, is there anything Grell vomit can’t do?  Ma Kohler still is not satisfied and yaps at Jesha; he calmly reminds her of her promise to free him when they get back to the city.

When Kohler wakes up, he is furious to see that he has been saved by Grell puke.  Not only is his best tunic ruined, his chest has begun to look like Grell skin.  He says soon it will be in his DNA and he won’t even be able to play tennis at the club.  It quickly spreads and begins to transform his face.

When Jesha asks Kohler to honor the agreement to let him go free, Kohler refuses.  Jesha chases him through the woods.  Yada yada, Kohler is nearly killed by humans who think he is a Grell.  However, he has had a change of heart.  He convinces the humans he is the High freakin’ Secretary and things are going to change.

I’ve never thought of Ted Shackleford as a great actor or, frankly, at all.  But he was great here as the cruel master who became the thing he hated.  Marina Sirtis was supposed to also be a cruel hater, but she was only given a couple of scenes to create her character.  Of course, she was in 176 episodes of ST:TNG and didn’t develop her character much more there.

Special praise is due for the actors playing the Grell.  All were excellent in making me see different personalities within their species, and not making me just think I was watching barista with latex on his or her face.  Which is also more than I got from TNG a lot of the time.

Other Stuff:

  • I guess I had thought of Ted Shackleford before as he was in TZ’s The Crossing.
  • Maybe I’m unloading on Star Trek because I just tried to rewatch Voyager.  Even skipping ahead to the 7 of 9 years, it is unwatchable.  And I went in really wanting to like it.

 

Science Fiction Theatre – Are We Invaded? (12/31/55)

“Some men climb to the top of a mountain simply because it is there; these men are mountain-climbers.  Others because it puts their telescopes closer to the stars they observe; these men are astronomers.”

Is Truman Bradley suggesting the view of Jupiter is better if you are 1,000 feet closer?

Ironically, Seth and Barbara have gone up a mountain to get a better view of Los Angeles below.  These two are past their Lover’s Lane age.  Seth is 30 and looks every bit of it with his Gutfeldian receding hair, jowls, and rumpled suit.  Barbara is a mere 25 — in age, and on a scale of 1 to 10.  They see a Flying Saucer that looks like Gilligan’s hat.

A weirdo in a suit named Mr. Galleon approaches the car.  He says he also saw the hat and asks for a ride down the mountain.

Barbara’s father just happens to be an astronomer.  He asks why, after 30 years of watching the sky through powerful telescopes, he has never seen a flying saucer.  He thinks what they saw was just an optical illusion.

Sitting in a restaurant after a big argument with Barbara’s father, Seth figures they have about $275 between them.

Seth: We could do it on that.

Barbara: Oh, Seth, you mean it?

Seth: We could rent everything we need.

Barbara: We could find a Justice of the Peace.

Seth: A 16 mm movie camera.

Barbara: Sure, and take pictures.

Seth: Sound recording equipment.

Barbara: Sound equipment?

Seth: For a soundtrack.

Barbara: A soundtrack?

Barbara finally realizes that he wants to make a documentary about Flying Saucers rather than film their honeymoon antics (and why did the sound bother her more than the film?  Is she a howler?).  He sees this as a way to “get famous, then move right into television” where he expects to sexually harass a much hotter league of gals. [1]

Mr. Galleon enters the restaurant and the couple invites him to join them.  He has been checking the paper to see if the flying saucer was reported.  He tells Seth he admires his open mind.  Seth begins making his documentary.

He films a minister who draws a picture of the flying saucer he saw which looks nothing like the film representation.

An airline pilot convincingly shows what his UFO looked liked by demonstrating how he pointed at it.

An air traffic controller claims in his career he has seen 500 craft of a type never seen before, although most turned out to be on-time Delta arrivals.

An air force major takes a lie detector test to confirm his story of UFOs over Mt. Palomar.  Hey, maybe he knows Bob Richardson!

After a week of editing his road trip into a documentary, Seth screens it for Barbara’s father.  Dr. Arnold finds it “interesting but misleading, more opinion than fact”  and, yet, the feel-good hit of the summer.  Despite the testimony of the trained observers in the film, he convincingly suggests science-based alternate explanations for every case.

“Oh yeah,” counters Seth.  “What about the fireball that Barbara and I saw?”  Dr. Arnold says he can not only explain it, he can reproduce the phenomena.  Seth asks Mr. Galleon to join them for the demonstration, but he can’t make it.  He does however, give Seth a photo that he wishes Dr. Arnold to analyze.

Dr. Arnold’s demonstration is pretty convincing even if, in reality, it doesn’t reach swamp gas authenticity.  Seth is embarrassed that they could have been so wrong.  Dr. Arnold consoles him that even though the conclusions were entirely unsupported, it was a “magnificent” piece of reporting.”  With this on his resume, he is thus encouraged to call his old college buddy Dan Rather about how to break in to network news.

Oh by the way, Seth hands Dr. Arnold the photo that Galleon gave him.  Dr. Arnold checks it with a magnifying glass and is stunned that it is “an authentic photograph of our sun and all its surrounding planets — our solar system.”  He says the photo could only have been taken from another solar system or a spaceship.

Seth calls the hotel where Galleon was staying, but he has checked out.  He left a forwarding address to be given to Dr. Arnold.  The hotel clerk can’t pronounce it, so spells it out C-E-N-T-A-U-R-I-6.  He explains that is the 6th rock in the Alpha Centauri solar system, 4.3 light years away!

OK, it is hardly a nitpick to say a single photo that made the entire solar system visible would have to be about the size of the universe.  If it fit into the photo Dr. Galleon provided, the planets would be smaller than atoms.  It would have been much more credible for the photo to be of the entire earth which would not happen until 1967.

In some ways, this was a companion piece to last week’s Project 44.  Both played with the form a little bit by introducing documentary elements.  In both cases, it made the episodes stand-outs in the series.

This did lead me to a mistake though.  Pat O’Brien (Dr. Arnold) was so terrible that I thought they had recruited another actual scientist to play the role.  He starts out OK, even in that stilted 1950s style, but gets worse as the episode unfolds.  By the end, I was convinced he was drunk or incapacitated by stage-fright.  He had a yuge career even extending 25 more years, so I am baffled.

As always in SFT, the scientist has a smokin’ hot daughter.  Though the show is often quite progressive, she is just eye-candy this time.  Seth is believable as the rumpled reporter.

So, one of the better episodes; but that is one low-ass bar.

Other Stuff:

  • [1] Note to Seth — you will never do better.
  • Title Analysis:  WTF?